


tous mes rêves

by choose_joy



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Comfort, Cooking, Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28187250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choose_joy/pseuds/choose_joy
Summary: hamid's gotten good at figuring out what zolf needs.he doesn't know why that's still so surprising.
Relationships: Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan/Zolf Smith
Kudos: 19





	tous mes rêves

When Zolf arrives home, he’s greeted with a blast of warm air that smells both spicy and sweet, carrying with it faint music that is equal parts gentle and upbeat. As he shakes the snow off his coat and hangs it up, he can hear Hamid’s voice humming along quietly, though he pauses slightly when he hears Zolf lock the front door. He starts back up again soon enough, and Zolf takes a moment to stand in the doorway and just pause for a moment before he takes off his boots.

When he finally looks around, he realizes that the lights are dimmed, and he’s suddenly grateful for it as the slight headache behind his eyes starts to ease. Slowly, he makes his way into the kitchen, following the music playing from their tinny little radio.

He pauses in the doorway, leaning against it, admiring the view before him. Hamid is  _ radiant.  _ To be fair, he always is, but there is something that turns in Zolf’s chest when he gets to see him like this. His hair is slightly disheveled, and his curls are more prominent than he normally keeps them. He’s wearing one of Zolf’s sweaters (far too large for him, and he’s rolled the sleeves up to his elbows) tucked into a pair of jeans, along with the floral apron they found at a charity shop together. There’s something spicy bubbling on the stove, and Zolf can see gingerbread cookies in the oven, which casts a warm glow on the kitchen, alight with candles.

Hamid finally hears him arrive, and spins around, a smile wide on his face that Zolf can’t help but return. He steps over for a hug, burying his face in Zolf’s neck as he says “I missed you.”

It's quiet, and it's simple, but for some reason, the words make tears prick at the corner of his eyes as he squeezes back and breathes in his partner. 

They stand like that for a while, each loathe to let the other go. Eventually, Zolf eases his hold, and Hamid pulls back just enough to look at him. He doesn’t say anything, but he seems to find something in Zolf’s eyes, because he pulls him down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, smoothing lines that Zolf didn’t even realize were there.

“Dinner’ll be ready soon, I’m just waiting for some of the liquid to boil off. I picked up that wine you like, but if you’d rather, the kettle is full so all you need to do is turn it on,” Hamid says, pulling away to stir the curry again, “Gingerbread just needs a couple more minutes in the oven, and then they can cool while we eat! Azu sent along that cream cheese icing recipe we’ve been begging for, too.”

And there are those pinpricks again. For some reason, Zolf is embarrassed. He knows he shouldn’t be, knows that he’s just had a bit too much stimulation today, but it never makes it easier. 

“Hey,” and oh, there’s Hamid’s voice again, “why don’t you go put on some comfier clothes, and I’ll get your drink ready, huh?”

Zolf just nods and walks himself over to their room, sitting on the bed solidly and letting himself breathe. 

It took a lot of time for them to figure their ways around one another. Where Zolf holds his emotions close to his chest, Hamid’s always worn his heart on his sleeve. Where Hamid is tidy, Zolf (when he’s comfortable) lets things sprawl out. Where Zolf prefers a quiet night in, Hamid is almost always ready for a night out.

They fought a lot, in the beginning. Still do, sometimes, but it's never vitriolic, not anymore. Hamid’s learned to give Zolf his space, and Zolf’s learned to accept help from his friends (most of the time). After years together, though, they can read each other at a glance, and sometimes they need even less than that.

The thought hits Zolf’s brain once again, even though they exchanged the words long ago.  _ I love him,  _ he thinks. It's not as scary as it used to be, but it doesn’t surprise him any less. After so long denying himself contentment, it's almost a novelty to have it. To arrive home to a partner who knows him so well that he prepares dinner and his favorite sweet, who knows that even though he doesn’t have much to say doesn’t mean he’s not thinking. Who knows to give him the space to have these feelings, and trust him to come back when he’s ready.

It's this that sets Zolf to his feet again, moving towards their closet and shucking his work clothes for a freshly-washed sweater (Hamid must have done the washing earlier as well, because it smells like the dryer sheets that Zolf always forgets to buy), a pair of flannel sleep pants, and cozy socks with little cats on them.

He lets himself take his time back to the kitchen, pausing to look at the photos that adorn their hallway: images of them on various holidays, large group photos with their friends, and a few of their families. It's the story of their lives, a little timeline from their bedroom to the front door.

When he gets back, Hamid is still over the stove, tongue sticking out slightly between his teeth. And, well, how can Zolf waste a perfectly good opportunity to hug his partner?

So, he does. He wraps his arms around the halfling, placing his chin on his head after pressing a swift kiss to the curls there.

“Thank you,” he says, voice rumbling from chapped lips. That’s all he needs to say.

They have time.

So they sway to the song on the radio, and they breathe.

**Author's Note:**

> this is. entirely self indulgent. i was just sad and wanted zolf to have something nice!! (i'm not projecting shut up)
> 
> anyway i wrote all of this while listening to a playlist of french kitchen songs and if i'm yearning then that's my business.
> 
> as always, i'm @choose__joy on twitter and thisisadingdongblog on tumblr! feel free to send prompt my way, i always want to write these two.


End file.
